The Room of Requirement
by malfoysminx
Summary: One year after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco meet again in the deserted corridor outside the Room of Requirement. dm/hp drarry slash
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is JK's.

Contains DH spoilers. EWE. Takes place a year after the Battle of Hogwarts. Students new and old have returned for a celebration to mark the one year anniversary of Voldemort's defeat and the news that the school will reopen as normal in September and welcome back all students, including those who have missed out on their final year.

Author's note: It's been a long time since I read DH and I've read far too much fanfiction in my time, so apologies if I've made any canon mistakes. This story is supposed to be canon compliant until the end of book 7 (not including the epilogue).

I've been playing with different points of view and I'm also writing this story from Draco's side of things. So in case anyone's interested, it will be posted up soon.

Please Note: Contains SLASH. Rated M to be safe.

**The Room of Requirement**

Chapter 1:

Harry stopped outside the blank expanse of wall that had once been so familiar to him. He had spent many hours in the room behind the stone, once upon a time.

It was a full year since he had last been inside. A year since the fiendfyre had destroyed the room, with all its multiple facets, for good. A year since the war, since Voldemort's death at Harry's own hand.

Without really meaning to Harry found himself sliding to the floor, leaning against the tapestry on the opposite wall. And it was a year since he'd seen Draco Malfoy.

The Slytherin had escaped Azkaban only thanks to the deeds of his mother. But Harry couldn't bring himself to be angry. He'd seen Malfoy's actions with his own eyes. Seen him lower his wand against Dumbledore, seen his terror. Lucius deserved everything he got and more, but Draco...

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Harry out of his musings. Unwilling to be found, especially here, Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak, which he kept with him more out of nostalgia than anything else these days, and draped it over himself.

The footsteps slowed as they drew closer and Harry watched as a figure came to a halt a few feet away from where he was hidden. The person was tall and wearing heavy robes with the hood pulled low over his head. At least Harry assumed it was a man. The figure was slender, but tall enough and broad enough to appear masculine.

As he watched, the man stepped slowly towards the wall. When he was less than a foot away, he lifted a hand, running it over the stone. The man's robe fell back slightly and Harry caught a glimpse of pale skin before the hand was withdrawn.

The brief glimpse, along with the location, was enough to send a host of memories flooding back. The last time Harry had been here, well... he had come to a lot of realisations since then.

At the time everything had been too hectic to think about anything beyond the next few moments and his ultimate task. But in the weeks that followed. The weeks of funerals and celebrations, Harry had had a lot of time to think. Time to remember.

He and Ginny had not gotten back together, as everyone had expected. They had both changed too much, grown too quickly and grown apart. Ginny would always be an important part of his life, but he saw her as a friend now and nothing more.

Often he had recalled the moments spent in the room of hidden things, the confrontation with Malfoy and their escape.

He had never really questioned his reasons for saving Malfoy. After all, enough people had died that day and Malfoy, though a bully, was not evil. But the broom ride that had saved them both, the ride that had brought Harry closer to Malfoy than anything else ever had...

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall as he remembered the feel of Malfoy's body pressed against his. The feel of Malfoy's hands clinging desperately to him. The sound of Malfoy's harsh breathing in his ear.

That memory did funny things to his insides.

A sound from the figure across the hall brought back other memories of the blond Slytherin. He looked up to see the figure leaning against the wall, shoulders shaking, his face buried in his arms. Harry froze, unsure what to do. The man obviously thought he was alone. Should Harry leave or...

It was at that moment that the man's hood fell back and Harry almost gasped aloud as the memory in his head merged with the sight before him. The bathroom of his imagination faded but the occupant remained the same. There was no mistaking that hair.

He was on his feet before he realised what he was doing. His thoughts were filled with the last and only time Harry had ever come across Malfoy crying. Even now he still hated himself for casting Sectumsempra.

He took a step forward still uncertain of what he should do. He knew Malfoy wouldn't appreciate knowing that Harry had seen him vulnerable yet again, but... how could he leave?

He took another step forward until he was beside Malfoy and reached out a hand to touch the blond's shoulder. Instantly Malfoy froze.

"Who's there?"

Harry said nothing, knowing Malfoy would recognise his voice.

Malfoy scowled. "I know it's you Potter. Hiding under that stupid cloak of yours, no doubt."

Malfoy reached for his wand and Harry shifted his grip to hold the Slytherin's arm still.

"Don't." He kept his voice low. A request, rather than a demand.

With his spare hand, Harry pulled off his cloak, letting it slide silently to the floor. He kept his face neutral, knowing that pity would be just as provoking as anger.

"What do you want Potter?" Malfoy's voice was harsh, but he stopped reaching for his wand.

The word 'you' was on the tip of Harry's tongue but he held it back.

"To talk." Harry replied instead.

Malfoy looked at him incredulously. "You want to talk? To me?"

Harry nodded. Letting his hand fall, Harry stepped back, resuming his place on the floor on the other side of the corridor. He would let Malfoy decide.

For a moment the Slytherin stood, looking torn, before gracefully sliding down the wall to sit opposite Harry. The two boys sat in silence staring at each other, before Draco's impatience finally broke through.

"Well? Talk."

Harry paused for a second before speaking, still unsure what he wanted to say. Or rather, he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but couldn't say it. He didn't have anything to say really, he just wanted Draco to stay. For them to interact without hexes and insults for once. And here, of all places, Harry felt sure they could do it.

But he was on unstable ground. He wanted to ask Malfoy if he was ok, but knew that would send the hexes flying faster than anything. He wanted to ask what Malfoy had been thinking about, but didn't think that would fare any better. So instead he talked about himself.

"I've been sitting here for a while, you know, thinking about everything. It feels like such a long time since I was here last. How can a year be such a long time?"

Malfoy said nothing, but didn't hex him either, so Harry continued.

"It's good to be back though. Even with all the memories... Its good to be home."

"How can you call this home? After everything?" Despite his derisive tone, there was a hint of curiosity beneath Malfoy's words.

"It's the first real home I've ever known."

Harry paused, but Malfoy said nothing else so he continued.

"McGonagall said that the room was gone. And I know she must be right. If the fiendfyre was strong enough to destroy a horcrux, how could the room have survived it? But I keep wanting to try, just in case."

"Why?" There was something in Malfoy's voice that Harry couldn't place. "Why would you ever want to go in there again after...?"

He trailed off and Harry realised that what he'd heard in Draco's voice was fear.

"There are other things that happened in that room. Before the war. Like in fifth year with Dumbledore's Army and..."

Harry stopped as he saw Draco flinch at the old headmasters name.

"I was there, you know. That night on the tower."

"Figures." Malfoy's voice was bitter.

"You're not a bad person Malfoy."

Even as he said it, Harry knew Malfoy was going to react badly, but he was expecting a hex. When Malfoy launched himself across the corridor it was the last thing Harry had anticipated. He caught the Slytherin's fist before he could land a punch.

"Malfoy, please..."

Malfoy paused for a second, then surprised Harry by dropping his fist, though he continued to glare.

"What do you want from me Potter?"

"I want..."

Suddenly Harry realised quite how close they were. He could feel Malfoy's breath on his face, see the flecks of blue in Malfoy's stormy eyes.

"I want..." Harry licked his lips, fighting a losing battle against the need that was coursing through him.

Harry moaned. "Merlin, I want _you_."

Harry saw the surprise register in Draco's eyes, a second before he gave into temptation and crushed Malfoy's lips with his own.

Harry had been dreaming about this for months. But nothing could have possibly prepared him for the reality. The softness of Malfoy's lips, the silky smooth strands of hair between Harry's fingers, the feel of his hard, angular body against Harry's…

And then Malfoy kissed him back.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is JK's.

Author's note: It's been a long time since I read DH and I've read far too much fanfiction in my time, so apologies if I've made any canon mistakes. This story is supposed to be canon compliant until the end of book 7 (not including the epilogue).

Please Note: Contains SLASH. Rated M to be safe.

**The Room of Requirement**

Chapter 2:

Harry's heart pounded unevenly as he pulled Malfoy even closer. He couldn't believe the Slytherin hadn't pushed him away yet. He felt the swipe of Malfoy's tongue against his and moaned. He'd wanted this for so long.

He dragged his fingers through Malfoy's hair, certain that the Slytherin would kill him later for mussing it, but unable to help himself. With his other hand, Harry stroked Malfoy's back, wishing the robes Malfoy wore weren't so thick.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry let his fingers drift to the fastenings of the blond's robes. Parting the fabric, he pushed his hands inside, revelling in the feel of Malfoy's body through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Harry moaned into Malfoy's mouth as he shifted his body, grinding their hips together. He was already hard and from the feel of things, he wasn't the only one. Encouraged, Harry let his mouth leave Malfoy's and trailed a line of kisses down the other boy's neck. Unable to resist, he licked Malfoy's throat before biting down hard enough to draw a gasp from the blond. Running his tongue over the bite to soothe it, Harry was kissing his way back up to Malfoy's lips when the sound of approaching voices cut through the haze of lust that had surrounded him. With a jolt he realised that he recognised the owners of the voices. His friends had come to find him.

It took Malfoy only a second longer to realise what he was doing and who with. Without a word he shot away from Harry, pausing only to shoot Harry a venomous glare, before hurrying off down the corridor.

Still dazed, it didn't occur to Harry to put his cloak back on before Ron and Hermione turned the corner and spotted him. He barely had the brainpower left to pull his robes over his lap to hide his obvious erection.

"Harry, there you are! We've been looking everywhere for you."

Hermione's relief was evident and Harry had to wonder what she had been expecting to find. It wasn't like he was in any danger anymore. At least not from anyone beside himself. He wondered if his moody silences over the last week had worried her more than she'd let on.

"You alright, mate?"

Harry nodded, allowing Ron to pull him to his feet.

"You sure?" Hermione bit her lip, her face troubled as she glanced at the blank wall across the corridor.

"Yeah." Harry nodded again. "Just needed some space, ya know?"

"I know." She paused obviously torn over whether to say what she was thinking.

"I'm fine Hermione, really."

"I know, it's just…"

"You are looking a little flushed, mate." Trust Ron to choose that moment to suddenly become observant.

"Seriously. I'm fine." Harry started walking towards the staircase.

Ron followed quickly, but Hermione stayed put, staring at the blank expanse of wall.

"But why here, Harry?"

For half a second he was tempted to tell the truth. 'Because that's where I feel closest to Malfoy.' And hell, it had worked hadn't it? But instead all he said was,

"I just can't believe it's really gone. I've got some good memories of that room, despite everything."

Unwilling to continue the conversation any further, Harry sped up, heading back towards the great hall. Hermoine and Ron followed behind him thankfully saying nothing more.

By the time the trio returned to the hall, all pretence that it wasn't a party had been dropped. Someone had conjured a set of speakers that were currently blaring out one of the Weird Sisters' latest tracks. The tables had been pushed back to make space for a dance floor and the lights had been dimmed. The effect was actually quite impressive. The great hall looked far more like a nightclub than the venue of a wizarding banquet.

As soon as they returned, Harry was pounced on by a large number of both wizards and witches asking him to dance. He was immensely relieved therefore when he saw Ginny pushing through the crowd towards him.

"C'mon Harry, dance with me."

Nodding gratefully, he took her hand and led her to a quiet corner of the dance floor, away from as many prying eyes as possible.

Unlike with his experience at the Yule ball, this was music that Harry could dance to. And he was comfortable enough with Ginny not to worry about her getting the wrong impression. But he couldn't keep his attention on her for long. Twirling her under his arm, he repositioned himself so he could see out over the people on the dance floor to those stood beyond. But Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Harry half wondered if he had left, but knew that was unlikely. All the guests were spending the night at the school.

Harry danced briefly with Hermione and Luna, but his heart wasn't really in it. And when Neville cut in to dance with Luna, Harry took the chance to escape.

It wasn't until almost an hour later that Malfoy finally returned to the hall. And if Harry's gaze hadn't been trained on the door, he probably wouldn't have noticed. The blond had once again covered his hair with the hood of his robes, and he stuck to the shadows.

Harry watched him, hoping he'd look up so Harry could catch his eye, but he didn't. Finally, Harry had had enough.

Slipping into an alcove, Harry pulled out his cloak once again before throwing it over himself and carefully making his way round the room.

As he reached the alcove where Malfoy had hidden himself, Harry paused as Malfoy's head suddenly shot up, knocking his hood back and revealing his face. Malfoy's gaze locked onto the seat on the other side of the hall, where Harry had been sat mere minutes ago, before shooting round the room in search of something or someone as yet unnamed.

Unable to resist, Harry stepped forward, dipping his head to whisper in Malfoy's ear,

"Looking for someone?"

Malfoy looked round, but seemed unsurprised to find no one there.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter."

Malfoy looked straight at him, something Harry always found somewhat disconcerting when he knew full well that the other person couldn't really see where he was.

Harry let it drop.

"We're not finished." He tried to keep the pleading note out of his voice, but he wasn't sure he had succeeded.

"Yes," Malfoy got to his feet, "We are." And with that Malfoy stalked past him and out of the doors.

It took a lot for Harry not to follow Malfoy out of the room. His head was still buzzing from their kiss and he was so certain he wasn't the only one to have felt something. But his Gryffindor tendencies were no use with Malfoy. The 'charge in without thinking approach' would not go down well with the ice prince of Slytherin.

Harry sat down in Malfoy's recently vacated seat and tried to think things through with his Slytherin side.

Harry was pulled out of his musings by the sound of approaching voices and jumped up quickly, narrowly escaping being sat on. He had forgotten he was still wearing his cloak. But, he supposed, that explained why he had been left alone for so long.

Scanning the room, Harry spotted Hermione and Ron on the edge of the dance floor, twined around each other. He suspected he had a while before they missed him again.

He left his cloak in place until he had escaped from the hall, before pulling it off and stuffing it back into his pocket. Whilst sneaking up on Malfoy was far more in line with the Slytherin way of doing things, he suspected it would not be appreciated. And the last thing he wanted was a fight.

He started off towards the dungeons, not really knowing where Malfoy was likely to be, having stupidly left the marauders' map back in his trunk at Grimmauld Place. For a while he wandered aimlessly down the corridor before the sound of voices drew him towards the potions classroom.

The voices were too low for him to catch what they were saying and before he could get close enough to hear, a shadowed figure emerged.

"Goodnight Draco. And thank you."

Harry shrunk back against the wall and out of sight as he watched Pansy Parkinson walk away in the opposite direction. He waited until the sound of her footsteps had faded into nothing, before making his way towards the classroom.

He paused in the doorway, scanning the room. It had changed very little since the first time he had visited. He was yet to find out who the new Potions professor would be, but he still considered it Snape's classroom, despite Slughorn's presence in Harry's last year at the school.

The thought of Snape brought back a host of memories, and Harry found himself wondering how very different things could have been. Maybe if he had known before... he stopped. Even then it was unlikely anything would have been really different, and if it had, well, likelihood was, things would have been worse. Snape would have hated Harry all the more for knowing. Though, he supposed, at least he would have known _why_ Snape hated him so much.

Pushing thoughts of the old professor out of his head, Harry let his gaze come to rest on Malfoy.

The Slytherin was stood with his back to the door, facing the teacher's desk. His shoulders were hunched, head bowed, but somehow Harry knew that the other boy's eyes were dry. Harry took a step forward and Malfoy tensed almost imperceptibly.

"What do you want from me?" Malfoy's voice was resigned.

"I don't want anything from you."

Malfoy turned towards him and Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"I find that hard to believe. It seems everyone wants a piece of me these days."

Harry couldn't help the slight upwards twitch of his lips, but he did his best to suppress it, as well as the somewhat hysterical urge to respond with 'Well I wouldn't mind a piece of that arse'.

"I know the feeling." He said instead.

"I suppose you do."

Taking the civil, if somewhat tense, conversation as encouragement, Harry stepped closer, walking further into the room to stand by one of the front desks.

Malfoy's eyes followed Harry's movements and he found himself shivering slightly at the intensity of the blond's gaze.

Unable to resist, Harry took one last step forward until he was close enough to Malfoy to feel the heat radiating from the blond's body. Harry heard the hitch in Malfoy's breathing as he drew closer and had to suppress an answering moan.

"You feel it too."

It was not a question and Malfoy didn't answer it. His lack of denial however, spoke volumes.

Slowly, Harry lifted a hand to cup Malfoy's cheek.

"You feel it too." He repeated, his voice so low he wasn't sure Malfoy would hear him.

And then Harry closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against the Slytherin's.

Malfoy made a sound low in his throat, and it pushed Harry over the edge. Wrapping his arms around the blond, Harry pulled him closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Malfoy's mouth opened obediently beneath his and Harry took advantage, darting his tongue between Malfoy's parted lips.

The kiss was intense, Harry's tongue duelled with Malfoy's before pulling back to explore the expanse of the blond's mouth. He tasted like nothing Harry had ever experienced before and for a long time Harry was lost to everything but the taste and feel of Malfoy's lips against his.

Finally pulling back for some much needed air, Harry's eyes fluttered open to view the boy in his arms. Malfoy was breathing heavily, his eyes hooded, cheeks flushed.

"Draco..." Harry whispered almost reverently.

Malfoy's eyes fluttered shut at the sound of his name and he groaned softly, clutching Harry against him.

"Harry..." Malfoy's voice was rough and it sent shivers coursing down Harry's spine.

With a helpless moan, Harry crushed Malfoy's lips once more beneath his own.

Harry kissed Malfoy as though he would drown without the feel of Malfoy's lips against his. His fingers carded through Malfoy's hair, hands tilting Malfoy's head so he could deepen the kiss. He bit and sucked at Malfoy's mouth until he forced a groan from the blond and even then he didn't pull back.

Needing more, Harry thrust his hips into Malfoy's hissing at the friction against his aching erection.

Suddenly, Malfoy wrenched himself out of Harry's embrace backing away as though he'd been burned.

Harry's heart lurched at the sight in front of him. Malfoy looked like he'd been thoroughly kissed. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, hair mussed. And Harry knew it was all because of him. That thought alone was enough to give him wank material for the next six months at least.

Then he noticed the expression on Malfoy's face.

"Just stay away from me, Potter. I don't want this. And I don't want you."

Harry stared at him, eyes wide, before his face began to crumple, but Malfoy had already turned away. By the time Harry had pulled himself together again, the Slytherin was gone.

Harry stayed in the potions room for a long time after that. At some point his legs had given out under him and he now sat on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest.

He hadn't expected it to hurt so much, Malfoy walking out on him. After all, he'd been expecting it right from the moment he walked in to the potions room. But it was the Slytherin's words, rather than his actions, which had cut Harry so deeply.

A drop of water landed on his hand and with a start Harry realised he was crying. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried. After everything he'd been through, it was almost soothing to know that the one thing that got to him was something so normal. He may be Harry Potter, but he still cried when the one he loved…

His thoughts came to a crashing halt.

That wasn't right. Sure he wanted Malfoy, but love? No way. It was lust, nothing more. Purely physical.

So why did it hurt so much?

Harry didn't have an answer for that.

When Harry finally made his way back to Gryffindor territory, the party was over. There were a few people still gathered in the common room, but they were too wrapped up in each other to notice as Harry made his way to bed.

He got ready as if in a daze and climbed into bed feeling as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Part of him knew he was being over dramatic, but the other, larger, part of him, was terrified of what Malfoy might do.

The rejection he could handle, just about, but what if Malfoy decided to tell someone. Or worse, what if he went to the prophet?

Harry had told only a handful of people that he was gay. And not a one of them knew that it was Malfoy who had brought him to that decision.

Somehow in the heat of the moment, well moments, Harry had forgotten that Malfoy still hated him. The thought of coming back in September no longer held quite the appeal it had before.

The greyish light of dawn was already leaking through the gap between the drapes when Harry finally fell into a fitful sleep. He dreamed of Malfoy as he did almost every night, the fiendfyre burning somewhere below them, yet not nearly as hot as the feel of Malfoy's body pressed tightly against Harry's.

If the following morning he was a little quieter than usual, his friends put it down to the war memories stirred up by the celebration the night before. Harry let them think what they liked. After all, in some way they were spot on.

When Harry entered the great hall for breakfast, his gaze shot straight to the Slytherin table. As if feeling the heat of Harry's stare, Malfoy looked up and caught Harry's eye. For a long moment they held each other's gaze, before Malfoy got to his feet and left.

Without thinking, Harry turned and headed after him. He hardly heard Hermione's surprised exclamation as he tore away from his friends. He had to see him, had to speak to him.

As soon as Harry reached the hall, he began running towards the doors. He made it outside just in time to see Malfoy's unmistakable figure hurrying through the gates. A split second later, and Malfoy was gone.

With a heavy heart, Harry dragged himself back to the hall, relieved when Hermione resisted the temptation to ask what was wrong. He knew he should be happy that he'd even had the chance to kiss Malfoy. He'd never previously thought it possible. But it was like eating forbidden fruit. Now he'd had a taste he couldn't think straight but for the overwhelming desire for more.

Harry pushed the food around his plate, no longer hungry. It was going to be a long year.


End file.
